The Gentleman Thief
by Gaiden1974
Summary: Follow the story of Cedric Lovillus as he attempts to bring the Thieves Guild of Skyrim back to its former glory. Liberties taken with canon dialogue.
1. Chapter 1

Money is the root of all evil they say. I've never quite understood that phrase. Money is amoral; it can be neither good nor bad. It is greed that leads to evil, but greed can be for any number of things. The most common form of greed is, of course, a lust for gold, but it is far from the only type of greed. Many people are greedy for power or knowledge, and both of those things can be acquired through other means besides passing septims around.

Besides, nobody has ever called me evil, and as a thief you would think that if money led to evil then I would be quite the dastardly man. In any case, though, I have said my piece. From here on out I will let my story speak for itself, and you can decide on your own if I am evil or not.

* * *

I sat in the Winking Skeever in Solitude, drinking an ale silently. My hunting bow - as well as my quiver of silver arrows - sat propped up against the chair I was sitting in. I watched the people come and go, listened to their gossip and rumors, saw the legionnaires glance at me with suspicion. Apparently they distrusted me, even though I was an Imperial recently immigrated from Chorrol back in Cyrodiil.

The dragons had been defeated by some mythical Dragonborn character, but the civil war still raged throughout the land. So much senseless bloodshed when the true enemy was obviously the Aldmeri Dominion and their Thalmor justicars who roamed the land like heroic conquerors. Pompous bastards, the lot of them.

That wasn't why I was here though. Rumors circulated quite widely that Skyrim's branch of the Thieves Guild was down on its luck. I had made quite a good living as an independent thief during my twenty-eight years in Chorrol, but I had never got around to joining the guild. If this branch needed help, however, I would be more than happy to oblige. Solitude was only my first stop for one simple reason: legality. There was no point in coming all the way up to Skyrim to join the Thieves Guild only to be arrested for border jumping before I even met them. I had petitioned Jarl Elisif the Fair for citizenship, and she had granted his request graciously.

As I finished my ale, I saw my opportunity. A nobleman, I think he was actually one of the city's thanes in fact, had just left his seat and started stumbling towards the doorway. I calmly stood and pulled my bow and quiver over my shoulder. As I walked out of the building, I bumped into the nobleman. My hand slipped into and out of his pocket in the space of a second, while my other hand held onto his shoulder to keep him from falling down as I profusely apologized for my clumsiness.

"Aye, well, you juss be more carful nex time." His voice was thick with the effects of his drinks, and I quickly made my exit.

I walked calmly out of the city gates and went down to the docks before opening my hand to see what I had acquired from the man. A small golden ring with a sapphire in the center sat in the palm of my hand beside a ruby. It was quite a good haul, really, for only a few minutes worth of work. With a smirk on my face, I went back up the path and to the carriage driver.

"Good evening sir." I called out to him. "How much for a ride to Riften?"

The man looked down at me from his perch before responding. "It's twenty septims for me to get you there. Though I don't know why you'd want to. That city is the armpit of Skyrim."

"We all have things to do, I suppose." I fished out the required number of gold pieces from a pouch on my belt made from the leather of a Netch. After depositing the gold into the driver's hand, I climbed up into the carriage and closed my eyes to get some rest during the ride.

* * *

After an unknown amount of time, I only knew that it was daylight now and it had been night when I boarded the carriage, I awoke to the sound of the driver calling out to me.

"You back there. We've made it to the armpit. You gettin' out?" I wiped some imagined dust out of my eyes before nodding and standing up. After nodding to the driver, I hopped down onto the ground and walked up towards the city's gates. One of the guards accosted me.

"There's a toll for entering this city, Imperial. One hundred septims to get in." I eyed him up and down. He was a young man, probably barely out of his teens, but with the Nords that meant nothing. He was still fully grown and muscular, but his inexperience showed in the simplicity of his attempt.

"Really? A shakedown? Come now gents, I'm sure the jarl would absolutely love to hear about this." I smiled innocently at the man, who immediately paled and shook his head.

"N-No that's not necessary. Just g-go on inside." He stammered nervously, realizing that I wasn't the easy mark he had made me out to be.

I smiled at him and patted his shoulder as I walked by. "There's a good lad."

Within moments of actually entering the city, though, I was accosted once more. This time it was by an immensely large Nord with shaggy black hair, exceedingly dark eyes, and steel armor that was pitted with obvious blade marks. "You lookin' to cause trouble for the Black-Briars, outsider?"

A raised eyebrow was the first response the man received before I managed to find the words to speak. Whoever these Black-Briars were, they were obviously important, and this man was a lackey of theirs. "No of course not. I wouldn't dream of it."

The man let out a short harrumph before nodding shortly and flicking his thumb over his shoulder - apparently satisfied for the time being. I needed no further urging, and I quickly passed by the man and on towards the city's bazaar.

After a half hour of watching the traders and their customers, I began to feel that I was getting a fairly good read on many of them. The armor trader had a coarse demeanor and manner of speech. It was rather obvious that she didn't much care if she made friends with her customers; she was confident in the ability of her gear to speak for itself. The Argonian jewelry craftsman was much more personable and often had conversations with his customers whether or not they actually purchased anything. The burly Nord blacksmith was kind enough, if a little bit curt. He gave off an air of being willing to talk if necessary, but he obviously preferred to just sell his goods and get back to work. The general goods broker was more or less what you would expect from a Dunmer. The final salesman was a redheaded Nord wearing an outfit of fine furs, though he seemed to be uncomfortable in them.

As he watched, the salesman was calling to passersby about some sort of Falmer blood elixir. I had never seen a Falmer myself, but from what I had heard from a few adventurers in Solitude.. they were not very pleasant. From what I knew of alchemy, however, I knew for a fact that the blood of any creature could not - alone at least - have such powers that this man claimed the elixir could do. He was but a simple charlatan, and I planned on confronting him.

After waiting for the man's customers to wander off, I strolled calmly up to the man. His gaze flicked up to mine and nearly stopped me in my tracks. Before I could confront him about the elixir, he spoke first. "Not in the best state financially, are you lad?"

I glanced down at my outfit and could easily understand why he assumed that. A man who is decked out in leather boots, sackcloth pants, and a sleeveless vest that lay open over a bare chest did not exactly scream 'nobility,' but I still didn't like hearing it out loud.

"My financial state is none of your business, charlatan." I spoke low enough so as not to alert anyone else in the bazaar about what was going on.

"Not so, lad, not so. In fact, wealth is exactly my business, and you look like you could use some." His eyes twinkled in the late afternoon sun. "Would you like a taste?"


	2. Chapter 2: Simple Beginnings

"A taste?" I raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Of wealth you mean?"

He nodded with a smirk. "Aye lad. The organization I represent is in the business of wealth, and I think you could be of some use. How about it?" He folded his arms over his chest as thoughts ran through my head. This man had to be Thieves Guild, I was almost entirely sure of it by this point.

"I don't see why not. After all, I could use a few septims." I smiled amicably before continuing. "What did you have in mind?"

The man jerked his head over towards the bazaar. "You're going to steal a silver ring from Madesi's stand and drop it in Brand-Shei's pocket." He said it as though it were the most simple thing in the world.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" The bazaar was brimming with people, and I couldn't see any easy access to either the stall _or_ the pocket as it was currently.

"Leave that to me, lad. Just get over to Madesi's stall." He commanded, and I found myself nodding assent immediately at the tone.

I left the bazaar and strolled along the edge of the upper walkways until I noticed everyone in the bazaar flock towards Brynjolf. Once they were all distracted, I ducked out of sight behind the Argonian's stall. I produced a lockpick from one of the pockets of my vest and proceeded to make a mockery of the simple lock on the strongbox. I snatched the silver ring, as well as a few septims and an amethyst, before moving from stall to stall over towards Brand-Shei.

As I got closer I could hear Brynjolf calling out about how potent the elixir was and how cheaply it could be theirs. I had to stifle a scoff as I heard a few people actually consider purchasing it. As carefully as I could, I dropped the ring into Brand-Shei's pocket before backing away.

After standing back up in an alleyway and returning to the bazaar in a way that was not suspicious, I approached Brynjolf once more.

"Well done, lad." He congratulated me and glanced beyond my shoulder to where a few guards were leading Brand-Shei off to the prison. "I'm almost surprised you succeeded, but we could certainly use someone like you in our organization."

"Sure just tell me where to meet you." I responded eagerly as I held out my hand for the pay he had promised me.

As the coinpurse dropped into my waiting hand, Brynjolf tutted quietly. "Not quite lad. Make your way to the Ragged Flagon down in the ratway if you think you're good enough."

I scoffed and nodded. "Of course I'm good enough. I'll see you there soon."

Brynjolf smirked and sauntered off while I entered into the Bee and Barb for a quick bottle or seven of ale.

* * *

After drinking two bottles of ale and eating a shepherd's pie, I strolled back out onto the street before slipping quietly down to the walkway beside the river. My nose crinkled at the smell of refuse and other such detritus. The armpit of Skyrim indeed.

Given that it was nearing midnight, I surmised that the only unlocked door would have to be the one that led to the ratway, and so I snuck about trying to open each door that I passed. Soon I came to a gate which opened with a creak, followed by a stout wooden door that opened easily. This would be interesting.

The first sounds I heard as I snuck into the ratway was the sound of voices. I quickly crept back into a small recess in the wall and pulled my dagger from its sheath. The steel blade glinted softly in the darkness. After a few moments, the discussion ended and footsteps began to head in my direction. A man clothed in fur armor and wielding a mace passed in front of me, heading towards the exit of the ratway. I left my spot in the wall's niche and snuck up behind the man; the blade of my knife easily cut through the back of his neck and pushed between two of the vertebrae.

My other hand had covered the man's throat, and I eased him silently to the ground before retracting my blade and wiping it off on his clothing. After dragging the corpse over to the recess in the wall, I continued on into the sewer. I hadn't gone ten steps when another man entered into my line of sight. This one had a rather lovely bow over his shoulder and was pacing back and forth in front of a doorway.

It was easy enough to get my bow off of my shoulder and get an arrow prepared to fire. I waited until the man began to pace away before releasing the string and watching the arrow fly forward and embed itself within the man's back. I quickly moved forward and grabbed his bow before continuing on my way.

A simple drawbridge was raised, blocking my path to the flagon. From what I could tell there was no way to lower it from my side of the gap, so I instead dropped into the gap and went to the nearest door. I had nearly opened the door when I noticed a small rope going into some kind of mechanism within the door. I stopped my movement immediately and took a lockpick out of my pocket. The lock was simple enough, and nothing lunged at me after I had picked it.

As I gazed into the small holes lining the door, I saw a small glint from the firelight as it played off of a metal spike. Apparently that is what was supposed to have happened when the door was opened. It was certainly a good thing that I had recognized the trigger, as becoming an Imperial kabob was not on my list of things to do.

* * *

It took me a little over an hour, but I finally made it safely into the Ragged Flagon bar. I brushed a few flecks of drying blood off of my shoulder. Most of it wasn't mine. My bow, along with the new one I had acquired from the scum near the entrance, was on my shoulder.

As I approached the bar area, I overheard the bartender speaking about how Brynjolf and his ilk were a dying breed. As if thievery would ever disappear. Brynjolf merely smirked and gestured one hand towards me.

"Then what is that, Vekel?"

The bartender blustered for a few moments before waving his hand dismissively and returning to the tankard that he was cleaning. Brynjolf then turned to face me directly.

"I hope you didn't have _too_ much trouble getting here, lad." He questioned in a light tone of voice, his eyes betraying nothing more than curiosity.

"Of course not. That was easy." I replied easily with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. It was nothing compared to stealing from a bandit ringleader in his own keep down in Cyrodiil.

"Talented and headstrong. You're turning out to be quite the catch, lad." He replied with a short chuckle. "On to business though. If you think you can handle it."

I nodded silently, waiting for more instructions. After a moment he continued on.

"We need to remind the people of this city that we are not to be trifled with. I want you to go collect a few debts. Your targets are Haelga, Keerava, and Bersi. They run the bunkhouse, The Bee and Barb, and the Pawned Prawn - respectively."

I mentally took note of the instructions as Brynjolf spoke. Once he had stopped, I spoke up.

"So after this, I will be a member of the guild?" I didn't bother asking for help with the debts. If I couldn't figure out how to collect them myself, then I didn't particularly deserve to be a part of the Thieves Guild.

"Aye, lad. You'll officially be one of us." Brynjolf nodded. "Now get out there and bring us back some coin."

I turned on my heel at his dismissal and left the Ragged Flagon quickly.


End file.
